


Not Brazil But Not British Columbia Either

by rabidfan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidfan/pseuds/rabidfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being the only Sentinel on the team was tiring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Brazil But Not British Columbia Either

**Author's Note:**

  * For [esteefee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/gifts).



> See, it's Esteefee's birthday. So we'd kind of made this loose pact. Very loose. If she'd write more Sentinel stuff so would I. And I'm doing that. I am. I just wasn't going to have it done in time for her birthday. So I pulled an excerpt and decided it would do as a sort of stand alone. Really, it's not my fault at all...it's all on her. ::nods::
> 
> Happy Birthday, Esteefee!

“Finally.” Rodney stopped in front of the gate he’d just exited. “A planet not covered in permafrost or looking like British Columbia.”

John snorted his amusement even as he pulled his guide away from the open wormhole. It was true that the majority of the worlds they’d visited reminded him of the Pacific Northwest. This one? This one reminded him of the forests of South America.

“Huh.” He squatted down, gathering a clump of the dark, crumbly soil into his hand. Squeezing it into his fist, he watched the loose clod as it fell back to the ground. “Interesting.” With the eyes of everyone on him he put the tip of his soiled finger to his tongue.

“Eww,” Rodney groaned. “Don’t come crying to me when your tongue swells up, major. That’s completely unsanitary. And disgusting.”

Ignoring Rodney for the moment, John pushed to his feet and concentrated, opening his senses to the environment around them. He cocked his head, figuring out their relative position on the mountainside where the Stargate sat. Toeing the loose soil with his boot, he turned back to the team still watching him like they expected him to perform magic tricks. Sometimes being the only Sentinel on the team was tiring.

“Acidic.” More silent staring. “How far above sea level would you say we are?”

Rodney muttered about crazy Sentinels while fussing with the LSD he’d reconfigured into something like his own personal Google Maps. “Just under 4,000 feet. Why?”

“Cool.”

“Cool? Really, Sheppard. What is this all about? We have a mission, remember? Chop, chop! I merely pointed out that we weren’t in Canada anymore. Could you be any more cryptic?” Rodney glared down at Sheppard, who was running his hands through the soil again.

Peering up at Rodney with a barely suppressed sigh, he tried again. “We’re on a mountainside. Acidic soil, probably volcanic, judging by the color and texture.” He gestured around the tightly clustered group of soldiers and scientists, “Evidence of heavy rainfall. Good drainage. Temperature on the cool side, even though it’s mid-summer here.” John sighed again when the pieces still failed to slot into place.

“And you call yourself a genius.” Gaining his feet again, John dusted off his palms. “Rodney. What grows best at high altitudes, in cool weather, with plenty of sunshine and rain, and a nice, acidic soil?”

The look of dawning comprehension that flashed over Rodney’s face was priceless. John was pretty sure if they’d been alone there would have been kissing involved. From the excited squeaks, it appeared the other geeks had finally clued in as well.

“Coffee!” Rodney crooned. “We can grow coffee!” His face fell as he contemplated the logistics. “It will take years for the trees to develop. That’s assuming we can convince the SGC to send some from Earth. You know how those bastards are about introducing Earth plant matter into the Pegasus ecosystem…”

John slowly turned 360 degrees, carefully screening the environment surrounding them. Smiling he reached over, placing his dirty palm over Rodney’s mouth to cut his epic rant short. Laughing at the scowl he’d earned, he said, “Rodney, we don’t have to plant trees…” he grabbed hold of Rodney’s shoulders, turning him around until he faced the downward slope past the Stargate. Acres of glossy green trees covered the mountainside.

“They’re already here.”


End file.
